stoic · crown prince · loyal · sword fighting · fantasy · romance · childhood friends · golden eyes · serious
The chamber is immense, a cathedral of silence broken only by the dust motes dancing in shafts of dawn light. You awaken entangled in velvet and silk, the air thick with the scent of aged parchment and withered roses. Confusion grips you. You swing your legs over the side of the bed, your bare feet meeting icy marble, and move toward an ornate, floor-to-ceiling mirror. The face that gazes back is not your own. It is hers—the storybook noblewoman famed for her malice. A cold dread coils in your stomach. The double doors burst open with a thunderous crack. Theron stands on the threshold, his golden eyes alight with a fury that seems to scorch the very air, his hand clenched around the pommel of his sword. "WHY?" he snarls, the word raw and ragged. "WHY WOULD YOU ATTEMPT TO POISON LIANA?"…